Looks From The Sidelines
by White-Lily-Blossom
Summary: Looks from the sidelines- An addition to my on-going HD fic, featuring diffrent characters musing about the boys' relationship.
1. Hermione Granger

So, first in a series! I don't really know how many I'll write, I'll just have to see how it evolves. Expect Pansy in a couple of days, it's in beta now (ah, you have no idea how fun it is to say "it is in beta now").

It was really fun writing this. I wanted to show things from a different perspective, show the things Harry and Draco don't realise or can't see. And of course, each character sees other things.

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Hermione watches them all the time now, more out of curiosity than anything else. At first, she thought she was just imagining it, Harry and Draco Malfoy, of all people? How absurd. How unlikely. So illogical.

Hermione herself is nothing if not logical, and that cold, calculating logic has slowly won over the more emotional side of her. Assumptions are hardly a fair rival for facts, as much as she wants to believe in those particular ones.

Hermione doesn't like Draco Malfoy. Actually, doesn't like is a pale shadow of her feelings, to say that she loathes him would be a much more appropriate sentiment. She may not like him, but Hermione is the most intelligent witch of her age for a reason, and so she doesn't let her less than friendly feelings towards the Slytherin cloud her judgement. She couldn't, not when the truth is so clear and obvious.

It starts, as things often do, with a seemingly random incident. In this case, it is Transfiguration, and Professor McGonagall is in the middle of explaining a particularly fascinating theory. Hermione's focus is divided, though. She just cannot stop worrying about Harry. Her best friend is so tired these days, so burdened by the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was especially noticeable this morning, and Hermione cannot resist glancing at him, just to check on how he is fairing. He looks exhausted. There are dark circles under his eyes, and there is a tight and unhappy set to his mouth, but he is still trying to listen. _Good old Harry_, she thinks fondly and with a touch of pride. She is just about to turn back to her notes when she catches sight of Malfoy, who sits behind Harry.

He is staring at Harry's back with much concentration, and at first she is worried; nothing good ever comes out of Malfoy paying attention to Harry_. Is it possible to curse a person by staring at his back_, she wonders. _I'll have to look it up in the library later, I remember seeing something about it in "Curses and Hexes for Pranksters"…_ It takes her a minute to realise that all Malfoy is doing is staring— at Harry's neck, no less. Frowning, she files it away and returns to her parchments, intending to dwell on it later on.

Hermione is nothing if not efficient. And being her usual efficient self, she does what every normal, logical person would do: she starts researching. Much to her surprise (she doesn't like to say discomfort), she discovers a pattern, a chain of seemingly random incidents. Malfoy stares at Harry during meals, which should be normal, really, because he's been doing it for the last six years; but Malfoy doesn't look malicious or scheming. Hermione could cope with that. Malfoy looks thoughtful. Malfoy looks distracted. Malfoy stares and stares and stares, and forgets to eat until Parkinson nudges him back to the realm of the living. He then startles as if he doesn't realise he was staring. He blushes, sometimes. This is something Hermione doesn't understand, and she hates being in the dark about anything, even more so if it has to do with Harry. She continues watching.

Malfoy stares at Harry during classes. Malfoy blushes when they're paired in potions and Harry leans too close. Malfoy gets tongue-tied and flustered around Harry, although only someone as observant as Hermione would see past his cold and confident facade. Malfoy does everything in his power, spits every stupid little jab he has, just to get Harry's attention.

It's ridiculous. It's preposterous. It's completely mind-boggling. It's also so completely and obviously true that Hermione can't comprehend why it took her so long to understand.

Malfoy is completely, utterly, and head over heels infatuated with Harry. And it's just as simple as that.

It's actually sort of sweet, after she gets used to the idea. It's not like Harry would ever return the feeling, of course. It's not like he'll ever even notice the way Malfoy looks at him; he's too much of a boy for that, too oblivious, too thick in this particular aspect of life. He is too wrapped up in his own world and troubles.

Hermione certainly doesn't mind. After all, it only means one more person to protect Harry, and one less enemy for him to kill, when the time comes.

Besides, even though she would never admit it, Hermione was always a bit of a romantic at heart. And impossible love is the most romantic of them all.

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Tell we what you think! Is it good? Is it bad? Is it so-so? Also, I have Hermione, Pansy and Dean written so far, and Ron, Ginny and the giggly twins (Lavender and Paravati) planned, but I really don't know who to write beyond that. So, any ideas? Someone you really want to read? If you do, just say so! Maybe Blaise?


	2. Pansy Parkinson

And the second, this time Pansy Parkinson.

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Pansy hates it. Absolutely hates it, yet she watches all the same. It's like watching a broom-collision fifty feet off the ground: horrible, unavoidable, and yet she can't seem to find the strength or the will to look away

Draco likes to think he is the master of deception. He fancies himself a brilliant actor, always hiding his emotions and thoughts behind a blank expression and an arrogant smirk. She supposes that to most, he is exactly that; the two-dimensional, cruel and haughty Slytherin Prince.

But oh, Pansy knows him. She knows him better than he knows himself at times, and has known him since she can remember herself. She can read him like an open book, as the saying goes. Sometimes, she regrets the fact that she can see right through him; it hurts her so much to see him drift away from her, from them, wrapped up in a silly and impossible dream she can't comprehend.

Understanding is the easy part. Who doesn't want love? Pansy certainly does, although she knows the person she has in mind will never return her feelings. Not now, not anymore, when he's already so far gone.

The worst thing is that she can see what Draco finds attractive in Harry Potter. She wonders, at times, if circumstances had been different, whether she could have fallen for him herself, if she hadn't fallen for Draco long ago. Potter is handsome, certainly, and Draco had been brought up to appreciate beauty. But that's not it, is it? There are a lot of beautiful girls in the school, or, if that's really the way he's inclined, boys more good-looking than Potter.

It's the fire that burns in Draco's eyes every time he looks at Potter; it's the way Potter brings out the best and the worst in him. It's the way Draco strives to outdo himself all the time, just to have Potter look at him a second longer. It's the way Draco's fists clench when Potter dismisses him yet again. It's the way Draco actually smiles – a real, genuinely happy smile – when Potter defends him in McGonagall's class.

Afterwards, she can see a glimmer of hope in Draco's eyes, and there is a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth all day long. Pansy wants to yell at him, to tell him that it was nothing, that he can't take it as a sign. Draco can't possibly think there's a chance. She wants to hit Potter; first for making Draco feel this way about him, then for deluding him into thinking he actually stands a chance.

She hates Potter for being the only one Draco has ever paid so much attention to, for being the only one Draco deems worthy enough. If it would help, she would get on her knees and beg the Gryffindor to let Draco out of his hold. You already have so much, Potter, must you take Draco too? You'll only leave him broken, at the end. Nothing good can come out of this.She can't say that, of course. Potter would not understand, and look at her as if she was mad, and Draco … Draco would kill her.

Turn away, she wants to say to Draco. Leave those impossible dreams, abandon those false hopes. Don't throw away everything you have, everything you ever cared about, for a smile that will never come and for green eyes that will only ever look at you with hatred. There is no place for you in his world, she wants to tell him. But she can't. Draco is as stubborn as they come, and he'll burn himself out, but he'll never be able to give up. Since he first met Potter, Draco has never been able to turn away from the other boy, not once.

But sometimes, although she tries to ignore it, she sees Potter stare at Draco, too. And the thought comes, despite her efforts to ignore it: Then again, Potter has never been able to turn away from Draco, either.

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I see Pansy as a good person, really. She's not some whiner who only cares about money or makeup, nor is she a slut. She can be vicious, yes, but we're all vicious when someone attacks us, or hurts those we love. She's one of Draco's best friends, maybe his best friend. She loves him. As more than a friend, too, but in the end, she just wants him to be happy, and to keep him from getting hurt.


	3. Dean Thomas

And now, third in line, Dean Thomas! I really like Dean, although there isn't much about him in the books. As an artist, I can relate to him : smile :

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Dean is a lot more observant than people give him credit for.

He is an artist more than anything else; talented, yes, in his ability to sketch things and catch them on paper, but he knows that that's not what makes an artist. Not really. Precise hands can be achieved with practice, but the soul, _the eyes_— that's what really defines a true artist. The eyes he looks at the world with.

He has to know what to look for, but more importantly, how to see: beauty in ordinary everyday things; like the green of a ribbon against vibrant red hair, or the flash of pale fingers half-curled from under a dark sleeve. He needs to notice how the play of sunlight through leaves creates a quilt of colour on the ground, and how the graceful touch of a palm to a chin creates a graceful curving line, just like that.

Dean notices things. He notices the way Ron and Hermione look at each other, the fond and surprisingly gentle expressions they wear when they think no one is looking. He notices Terry Boot's awkward and jerky movements as he peers anxiously at the professor's back before he throws tiny, neatly folded notes at Padma during Ancient Runes. He notices the twinkle is gone from Dumbledore's eyes as the Headmaster sweeps his gaze over the students at dinner.

He notices Harry and Draco Malfoy, of course; but then again, who doesn't?

He doesn't get drawn into arguments like Ron does, or like the other Gryffindors do. He can't help but look at everything with an artist's eyes; it's by now second nature to him. When Ron complains about Malfoy's insults, Dean thinks about the way Malfoy's lips curl when he smirks. When Neville once again finds himself in a body bond, Dean thinks about the way the shadows move over Harry's jaw when it tightens as he looks at Neville. But when it's Harry and Malfoy together, Dean's hands itch to pick up a pencil, a notebook, to start drawing immediately.

He doesn't think anyone else has actually noticed how physically alike they are. Both have the same proud lines to the back; Harry's a little more self confident, Malfoy's a little more arrogant. The same narrow build, thin shoulders, long, graceful limbs and the same height. Both have handsome faces, delicate, almost angular; Malfoy a little more pointed, Harry a little more sharp.

They have the same hands; beautiful, long-fingered hands, perfect for grasping the Snitch. While Harry bites his fingernails, Malfoy's nails are immaculate. They stand the same, with the chin sticking a little forward, as though constantly challenging the world. They copy each other, without realizing it; Malfoy has taken to tugging at his hair when frustrated, a gesture uniquely Harry. Harry sometimes quirks an eyebrow, almost mocking, and the side of his mouth curls a little, although the gesture looks more annoyed and less mean on him.

Dean isn't sure who started the habit of chewing on his bottom lip when deep in thought; it is so far in the past now that it doesn't seem to matter.

He watches calmly, almost detached, as they shout at each other again, over this thing or another. Their hands are fisted and shaking at their sides, their faces are pale with anger, teeth bared in an identical snarl. They are similar, in their lean, teenage bodies, and in their rage. Yet they are so different: in their hair, black against white; and in their badges, Gryffindor against Slytherin.

Dean looks at them, all barely suppressed energy, all burning, dark eyes and heavy breaths, and thinks: _God, they make such a beautiful picture together._

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So, my lovely readers: What do you think? I am eager to hear your comments, good or bad.


	4. Ron Weasley

So, yeah, after a long time, it's Ron's turn! Hope this makes sense...

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Ron doesn't understand Hermione.

While that is usually the case, and would hardly surprise anyone had he said it, this time it's a little different. Usually he doesn't understand what she finds so interesting about Ancient Runes – there's a reason they're called "Ancient" and no one uses them anymore. Or "Hogwarts, a History"; two thousand pages of complete and utter boredom, and a lot of dust. Really, he can't see the appeal. Or ugly and big-nosed Bulgarian Quidditch players that are too old for her anyway, and what is she thinking, exactly? So the bloke plays international Quidditch. It doesn't mean that he'll know what's god for her, or how to – well, never mind.

Hermione confuses Ron on a daily basis. But now, well, it's something else.

"I don't like Malfoy," she tells him, one day when Harry is with Professor Dumbledore, as though confiding a great and horrible secret.

"Fancy that," he says, bemused. "And that's supposed to shock me, how?"

"No," she whispers impatiently "It's the way he looks at Harry. I don't trust him."

"Aha," he says, blinking "you mean in utter contempt? In loathing? In envy, because he's a sad little wanker that will never be as good as –"

"No!" she hisses. "Not anymore he doesn't. Just…" she makes a frustrated noise. "You're just as blind as Harry is!"

"Hermione," he says cautiously, as to not set her off "is this about the fist-fight they had a few days ago? Because you said something similar then…"

"And I'm right, aren't I?" She clings to the shred of hope he has given her, looking at him eagerly.

"You're usually right," Ron says sheepishly, and maybe he's blushing a bit, too "but, unfortunately, I still have no idea what you're talking about."

"Urgh!" she exclaims, throwing her hands in the air, and she storms away, muttering to herself about the general obliviousness of teenage boys and the superiority of females compared to men.

"Mental, that one," Ron says to himself, and shrugs it off.

But it bugs him, what Hermione said, and even more, what she didn't say. How would Malfoy look at Harry, if not in hate? And he starts watching them closely, especially Malfoy. Because if Hermione says something is off, then she's almost always right.

At first he doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. But then he starts to wonder; did Malfoy always stare at Harry so much? Was he always this pink around this time of the year? Ron doesn't know, he's never gave Malfoy much thought except to hurt him, but to his long nose, something smells fishy.

"You know Malfoy watches our Quidditch practices," he asks Harry, one day.

"Probably spying," Harry answers, immersed in his homework.

"You know he doesn't really taunt you anymore," he asks, frowning.

"We're all busy, he probably just doesn't have any time," Harry says, and glances at the clock before making a face. "I need to go, Shacklebolt's calling".

"I swear, if it wasn't Malfoy, I'd say he was actually being nice to you," Ron says suspiciously, after Malfoy passes them in the hall and actually gives a brief nod in Harry's direction, not that Harry notices.

"What is it with you and Hermione?" Harry demands, looking up from the Potions textbook he is trying to read while Ron steers him. "Malfoy this, Malfoy that, 'be careful, Harry', 'I don't trust him, Harry', blah blah blah".

"He's being very un-Malfoy-ish," Ron insists, flustered, but Harry's already buried back in his book.

Ron doesn't know what to think. Ron doesn't like to be confused, but he is. Usually, in a situation like this, Ron would go to Hermione, but for some reason he has a feeling he isn't going to like the answer she will give him.

Ron resolves just to wait, and see how everything plays out. And in the meantime, he'll be keeping both eyes on Malfoy.

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I tried to make Ron as in character as I could -- which means, he does have to be dense, and it'll be hard for him to see any other side of Malfoy, other than the "bastard" side, and harder to accept it's not some sort of plot against Harry. But on the other hand, he has facts, he sees things, so he's having a rather hard time with the whole thing.


End file.
